125. Garden Ball

Under Klaus’s unwavering gaze, Roselia felt her cheeks flush slightly.

Asif, who had been about to step in to confront Tania, was forced to stand back and watch.

Seeing Roselia and Klaus locking eyes made him deeply uncomfortable.

While Asif struggled with his thoughts, Tania, who had regained her composure, forced a smile and continued speaking.

“Lady Claucet, Duke Klaus—you both must have received invitations from the Countess as well.”

Feigning familiarity, Tania spoke lightly, but Claucet simply scoffed with a bored expression.

“Of course. The Countess personally requested our attendance, saying her estate had greatly benefited from Valtazar’s construction investments.”

“Claucet.”

Klaus shot his sister a warning glance, clearly telling her not to say unnecessary things.

Claucet, unimpressed, snorted as if to say, What? Am I wrong?

Just then, Nora, who had been standing quietly beside Tania like a mere attendant, suddenly stepped forward, her face flushed with emotion.

“Lady Claucet! How dare you, a mere noblewoman from another country, be so disrespectful to an imperial princess?”

Claucet blinked in surprise, but the one who seemed more flustered was Tania herself.

“Nora, be quiet…!”

Nora, whose status had been lower than even commoners not long ago, had no grasp of the true weight of the Valtazar name.

To the untrained eye, it might seem improper for a mere duke’s daughter to speak so boldly to an imperial princess.

But House Valtazar operated beyond the normal constraints of nobility.

“It seems the princess has acquired a very loyal maid,” Claucet sneered.

Nora bristled, taking another step forward.

“I am not a maid! I am to be Prince Alphonse’s—”

“Enough!”

Tania’s sharp, irritated voice cut through the air as she turned to glare at Nora with clear contempt.

“If you were born low, you should at least learn some manners. Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”

“H-Highness, I was just…”

Seeing Nora desperately trying to please the princess at her own expense, Roselia’s expression hardened.

And then, the murmuring crowd parted.

The host of the banquet had arrived.

“I was wondering why my garden was so noisy—so many notable guests have gathered here.”

It was Countess Langley.

Her silver-white hair was elegantly pinned up, and she wore a luxurious shawl, exuding grace and authority.

Even in her old age, the countess commanded an overwhelming presence, befitting one of the most influential figures in high society.

At her arrival, Claucet and Tania both immediately fell silent and lowered their heads respectfully.

“Thank you for inviting us, Countess Langley. I apologize for any unintentional discourtesy,” Claucet said.

Not to be outdone, Tania quickly followed.

“Thank you for the invitation, Countess. I hope the Benuvian accessories I sent were to your liking?”

The countess responded with indifference.

“What would an old woman like me do with such extravagant trinkets? But I appreciate the sentiment.”

Tania’s face stiffened.

Then Klaus, ever composed, offered a polite bow.

“It has been a long time, Countess Langley.”

“Oh… The last time I met the Duke of Valtazar, he was just a boy. You have certainly grown.”

The countess then turned her gaze toward Roselia.

“So, you are the young lady of House Euciliod?”

Under the countess’s scrutiny, Roselia met her gaze and offered a graceful bow.

“Thank you for your invitation, Countess.”

“The child we all thought dead for twenty years… and yet, here you are, grown into such a fine young woman. Come closer—I would like a better look at you.”

The countess, known for her sharp tongue, spoke surprisingly gently, catching Roselia off guard.

With slight hesitation, Roselia stepped forward.

The countess reached out, taking Roselia’s hand in her own.

The moment their hands touched, her brows furrowed.

Roselia’s hands were rough—evidence of a life spent in hardship.

Having been treated worse than a maid in the Hesingk household and having worked as a servant in the Duke’s estate, her hands were nothing like those of a typical noble lady.

Looking down at them with an almost sorrowful expression, the countess then lifted her gaze to meet Roselia’s and smiled.

“Your mother, the Marquess’s wife, was like a daughter to me. When I heard of her death, it felt as though the sky had collapsed. But to see her daughter standing before me now… it is truly something.”

Roselia saw the genuine sadness in the countess’s eyes and, for the first time, gently squeezed the old woman’s hand in return.

She had heard that the Langley household had no children.

She didn’t know the details, but it seemed her mother had been deeply connected to the countess.

Originally, the Langley family had been aligned with the Empress’s faction. But after the Marquess’s wife’s death, they had distanced themselves from House Euciliod, seemingly blaming them for what had happened.

Now, the countess smiled warmly and led Roselia by the hand.

“If you don’t mind, would you keep this old woman company for a while during the banquet?”

For a brief moment, Roselia was speechless.

To sit beside Countess Langley at her own banquet—this was a monumental moment in Raphelios high society.

“Yes, dear. We would love to hear more about you,” one of the older noblewomen chimed in. “How was life in Rugbeljet?”

“Lady Roselia, was it? Would you care for some peppermint tea?”

Before she knew it, the influential noblewomen—most of whom belonged to neutral factions—were welcoming her warmly.

Roselia offered them a small, polite smile and took a seat.

“I would be honored to keep such esteemed ladies company.”

From a distance, Claucet fidgeted, clearly hesitating.

Roselia could tell she wanted to join but was too shy to intrude.

With an amused smile, Roselia turned to the noblewomen.

“If it is not an inconvenience, may I invite a friend to join us?”

“Of course, dear. The more, the merrier,” one of the ladies replied kindly.

Despite their words, these were some of the most elite, high-ranking noblewomen in the empire—young noble ladies rarely had the courage to approach them.

Yet they were all treating Roselia with warmth, drawing attention from the entire banquet.

Catching Roselia’s silent signal, Claucet beamed and hurried over.

“Pardon my intrusion. I am Claucet of House Valtazar.”

“I had heard there was a young lady in the Duke’s household, but I did not expect her to be such a fine young woman.”

“Come, sit with us.”

As the atmosphere turned lively, Princess Tania stood frozen, trembling with suppressed rage.

Next to her, Nora, her face filled with anxiety, was glaring at Roselia.

* * *

Asif stood awkwardly in a corner of the banquet, looking as restless as a puppy needing to relieve itself.

Under normal circumstances, he would have approached Antonio without hesitation, acting as familiar and friendly as ever.

But with her as Roselia, he found himself hesitating.

Maybe it was the way her dress shimmered under the lights, or how her black hair gleamed with an almost hypnotic luster.

When she had unexpectedly appeared at the imperial meeting, she had certainly been beautiful, but the chaos of the situation had left him no time to properly take in her presence.

But tonight—tonight was different.

She had deliberately dressed up.

His eyes kept drifting toward her, yet he couldn’t muster the courage to approach.

And he wasn’t the only one.

Several men had their eyes fixed on Roselia, drawn in by her presence.

Now that he thought about it, her pheromone scent seemed particularly strong tonight.

Did she decide there was no need to suppress it anymore?

Irritated by the way the men were staring at her, Asif downed his drink in one go.

His gaze shifted—and landed on Klaus.

The duke, too, was staring at Roselia with an unreadable expression.

He knew about her disguise, didn’t he?

Suddenly, Asif understood why Klaus had always been hovering around Antonio.

He was interested in Roselia all along.

That realization sent an unexpected wave of unease crashing over him.

Even when Roselia had been Antonio, Klaus’s presence had been an annoyance.

But now?

Now, it bothered him.

Perhaps it was the alcohol giving him courage, but Asif finally strode toward Roselia.

At that moment, an orchestra began playing, and a ball commenced at the center of the garden.

Roselia, who had been sitting beside Countess Langley in pleasant conversation, looked up in surprise as Asif approached.

“Prince Asif?”

“Roselia…”

Under the golden evening lights, her emerald eyes shone like gemstones.

Asif found himself momentarily mesmerized, unable to look away.

But before he could say anything further—

Klaus abruptly stepped in.

“You’ve been sitting too long. Dance with me.”

Asif’s expression turned blank.

The duke had completely cut in as if he had every right to do so.

Klaus barely spared Asif a glance before extending his hand to Roselia.

Caught between the two men, Roselia blinked in confusion.

Then, Countess Langley chuckled and spoke up.

“You should go and enjoy yourself, Roselia. This is the age for fun, after all.”

Claucet chimed in as well, her smile teasing.

“Yes, Roselia. Go have fun. But who will be your first dance partner?”

Her knowing gaze flicked between Klaus and Asif.

Roselia, suddenly put on the spot, looked back and forth between the two men, flustered.

“I asked first,” Klaus said, his voice low and displeased.

“I got here first,” Asif countered, equally stubborn.

Feeling caught in the middle, Roselia sighed and finally spoke.

“Since Prince Asif arrived first, I will dance with him first.”

It sounded as if she were settling a dispute between two bickering children over an apple.

But their reactions were entirely different.

Asif’s face lit up with satisfaction, while Klaus’s expression darkened with clear displeasure.

Feeling guilty, Roselia quickly added,

“Duke Klaus, I will dance with you next.”

At that, Klaus’s gaze softened slightly.

“I’ll wait,” he murmured.

Something about the way he said it—so obedient, like a well-trained Doberman—made Roselia chuckle involuntarily.

Not wanting him to notice, she swiftly took Asif’s hand and stepped toward the dance floor.

Asif, suddenly holding her hand, turned red.

Meanwhile, Roselia placed her free hand lightly on his shoulder, leading the dance effortlessly.

But despite always being so confident, Asif now stood stiffly, unable to say a word.

Roselia quirked a brow at him.

“You’ve danced before. Why are you so tense?”

“Ahem! I’m not tense,” Asif grumbled, clearing his throat as if to regain composure.

Hesitantly, he placed a hand on her back, pulling her a fraction closer.

And for the first time, he saw her up close—not as Antonio, but as Roselia.

Her dark hair was loosely tied back, her emerald eyes meeting his with quiet curiosity.

And suddenly, his heart pounded.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered.

His naturally tan complexion took on a deep red hue.

Roselia blinked at his flustered reaction, puzzled.

Asif, meanwhile, was doing everything in his power to keep his breathing steady, terrified that she might hear his hammering heartbeat.

And then—the music changed, signaling the moment to switch partners.

Just as Asif was lamenting the end of their dance, another hand smoothly took Roselia’s.

Before he could even react, Klaus effortlessly pulled her into his arms.

“Looks like it’s my turn now.”

Unlike the careful and hesitant Asif, Klaus exuded confidence as he drew her close.

The sudden proximity, combined with the subtle scent of him, made Roselia’s face heat up.